Friendship's Worth
by Sentimental Star
Summary: **COMPLETE** AU. "'I do not need a counselor, mellon-nin, nor a soldier or archer. I want neither a subject nor a valet. I simply want my best friend back. My brother.'" --Moviebased. NO Slash.--


**Disclaimer:** I do not own, nor ever will, the Lord of the Rings trilogy---that belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, the mastermind behind this incredible world.

**A/N:** This is my first LotR fic in a while. It is an AU fic, taking place after the whole Helm's Deep incident in TTT; there is no mention of Arwen. It is NON-SLASH still, and _still _focuses on Aragorn and Legolas's friendship. I have taken down "These Bonds We've Forged" until further notice. I was taking forever writing the chapters and wound up working myself into a corner. I hope to get back to it, but I don't know when. I'm sorry I had to take it down and for those of you who had followed it, thank you so much for all your reviews. At any rate, please enjoy this one! And of course, R&R!

'**Elvish'**

"**Common Speech"**

**/Personal Thoughts/**

**.:Friendship's Worth:.**

**By Sentimental Star**

There was a distance between them he did not like. 'Twas as if Legolas were pushing himself farther and farther away, allowing Aragorn the spotlight, when in truth the Dúnadan wanted nothing more than to fade into the shadows.

He'd had enough.

Legolas was a far better leader than he would _ever_ be and it just felt..._wrong_. He was too used to having his best friend right there, at his side---not three steps behind him!

Currently, he was storming through the halls of Edoras trying to _find_ the Elven prince. He must have searched every blasted room in this entire complex, but Legolas was nowhere to be found!

A bond existed between them---had ever since the prince and his three cousins had _found_ him, a mere babe, pinned beneath his dead mother's body after an Orc ambush. It was of a magical origin, although Mithrandir and Lord Elrond of Imladris, his foster father, knew only that the magic was very ancient.

It let them know where the other was, whether or not they were in danger---or hurt. But for whatever reason, it did not function until he was within five hundred feet of the Elf. Which explained the Silvan archer's highly emotional reaction when he had returned two days after being thought dead.

His beloved friend had fairly _thrown_ himself into the Dúnadan's arms upon the man's arrival in the inner courtyard of Helm's Deep. Weeping.

He swore he had several gray hairs from that incident.

And still he had not told the Firstborn how it was he had survived such a steep fall into a raging river.

Gimli the Dwarf claimed 'twas sheer dumb luck. But Aragorn knew differently. And he had not told him...

There was reveling tonight in the Halls of Meduseld. Celebrating. But a shadow hung over Aragorn's heart. This was why he had searched the Elf out in the first place, needing to know that at least his dearest friend yet lived and had not been left among the corpses of Elves, Men, and Orc alike at Helm's Deep.

Now he was just plain annoyed. Where had that damn Elf gone to?!

He had just turned down yet another corridor, this one leading to the outside world via a threshold at the end of it, when a very familiar, very _warm_ presence registered in his mind.

Aragorn rolled his eyes. He should have guessed as much. "Ruddy Elf," he growled in Westron, using one of Gimli's favorite expressions.

But something was not right. As he neared the Firstborn's location the sense that something was just the slightest bit off about his best friend's presence grew stronger with each step he took. Something dark in the normally vibrant soul.

By the time he reached the threshold he had figured it out. The Elf, for some reason, was deeply troubled. So he did not hesitate when he stepped outside, but quickly spotted the Elf's darkly cloaked figure even against the star-strewn night. Although he strongly suspected it had something to do with the fact that it was a full moon this evening.

Immediately, he turned and headed straight for the prince. Dropping his chin lightly on the Elf's shoulder once he reached the other male, and wrapping his arms around the archer's slim waist in an embrace from behind, he grumbled affectionately, "You have an uncanny ability to drive a person mad, my friend, or did you not know that?"

Legolas laughed lightly, leaning back against the warm solidity of the Ranger behind him. "So I've oft been told."

"Well, you should try listening next time. I searched half of Edoras trying to find you!" Aragorn retorted softly. 'Twas silent out here under the stars, no other beings around save for the two of them. And the Dúnadan liked it that way. He had never been one much for social gatherings, save in his own home of Imladris, or maybe, just _possibly_, Mirkwood.

"Not that _you_ minded," the prince countered, smirk touching his lips as he gazed out at the horizon. "I have it under good authority that you would sooner face dozens of Orcs than attend a fancy social gathering."

"You should," the man muttered with a playful snort, "I've only told you that every single time you forced me to attend a feast in Mirkwood, which would be, oh, about one hundred times."

Legolas started chuckling again, albeit weakly. "Oh, Estel, will you never change?"

His demeanor abruptly sobering, Aragorn sighed and buried his face against the Silvan Elf's shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. "What's wrong?" he murmured, voice slightly muffled and aching with concern.

The prince stiffened within his hold before turning around to fact the young captain, never leaving the circumference of his arms. His usually bright midnight eyes were unusually shadowed. "Many things are amiss, dear friend. The future is shrouded in uncertainty and darkness, and we know not what path lies ahead of us. 'Tis a burden that lies not lightly on our shoulders..." He dropped his eyes and quieted his voice, placing his hand over the Dúnadan's heart. "That lies on _your_ shoulders. I-I fear 'twill take you from me, that no matter what I do or say 'twill not be enough." His voice softened further. "I do not want that."

"And that's just nonsense!" Aragorn cried out softly in shock. Did Legolas know naught of how much he'd done?! "Do you not know what your friendship and just your mere presence have meant to me?!" He grabbed the Elf's shoulders and gave him a firm shake when the Firstborn did not respond. "Legolas! You have no idea?! Do you not know that the entire reason I am here now is _because _of you?!"

Judging from the prince's slightly widened midnight eyes, the Elf did not. "You came to me, on the river bank! I was half-dead and nearly unconscious. I could not move. I could not think. I wanted to die. But you came to me, Legolas, even in the midst of delusions and hallucinations!" Warm tears were now falling fast and swiftly down Aragorn's cheeks to drip onto Legolas's own. "You were there, Legolas, when I most needed you. You always _are_! How can you believe that all you have done for me, all you have given, sacrificed, is for naught?! You are wonderful, my friend. You are the most wonderful being to walk the face of this earth!" After this passionate outburst, he softened his voice, tenderly fingering the prince's golden hair and brushing away tears no longer his own from rosy cheeks, switching over to Sindarin, 'Your heart is not worthless, quel mellon-nin. In fact, to me, 'tis the most precious gift I have ever been given. Its worth cannot be mapped because 'tis priceless. I do not need a counselor, mellon-nin, nor a soldier or archer. I want neither a subject nor a valet. I simply want my best friend back. My brother.'

Gazing into Aragorn's tear-bright eyes, Legolas swallowed thickly before offering a shaky smile. Shaky, but when his lips curved shyly upwards, the smile went all the way to his own bright eyes. He blinked, and several more tears fell from his midnight orbs. Still, Aragorn could not remember a time when he had been more relieved _or_ grateful to see that familiar grin.

Releasing a heavy sigh of relief, the Ranger gently pushed back the hood that thus far had been concealing the Crown Prince's ethereal light from curious eyes. As waves of gold cascaded down the Silvan Elf's shoulders, Aragorn moved his hands so that they lightly framed Legolas's face. His best friend smiled warmly up at him, face glowing---and not just from the light of the stars. The Dúnadan softly returned the grin, before leaning down slightly; whereupon, he tenderly kissed the Woodland archer's forehead.

Pulling back the tiniest bit, he murmured, still in the Gray Tongue, 'I know I don't have to say it, but I want to: Im melin le, gwador-nin. Your presence at my side will ever be a blessing to me.'

Legolas had not thought he could smile any wider, but he did. Clearly touched by the man's words, he pulled Aragorn into a tight embrace and held him, letting tears silently trickle down his cheeks. When at last he spoke, it was in a soft, thick whisper, 'Then you ought to know, gwador-nin, that you are the dearest person to my heart, aside from Adar. Hannon-le, Estel, for you _are_ my hope.'

**The End!**

**Elvish Words:**

**quel mellon-nin (my good friend)**

**mellon-nin (my friend)**

**Im melin le, gwador-nin (I love you, my (sworn) brother)**

**Adar (Father)**

**Hannon-le (Thank you)**

**Estel (Hope; one of Aragorn's many names, this one given to him by Elrond)**

**Please let me know if any of these are incorrect! SS**


End file.
